Boyslut by Zachary Zane EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Zachary Zane
- Language: English
- Genre: Biographies & Memoirs of Authors
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
AM I A SEX-OBSESSED PERVERT?
One of my first memories is imagining my childhood therapist naked. Mark
was handsome—the pinnacle of “daddy”—late thirties, solid build, scruffy.
He wore floral-printed shirts that were just a small step above Hawaiian.
He had a warm, friendly demeanor, more so than most therapists,
perhaps because he worked with children. I suffered from severe obsessivecompulsive disorder, which was why my mom had sought Mark out. His
office was cluttered with bright, colorful pictures of cartoon animals
sporting supportive phrases, like a penguin who beamed: You can do
anything! For the last twenty minutes of each session, we always played a
game together—at first it was Candy Land, but by the time I left his
practice I was beating him at chess.
He usually sat cross-legged, for which I was grateful. Uncrossing his
legs meant I would immediately and involuntarily imagine his penis flanked
by a big ol’ pair of saggy balls. Trying not to imagine his loins only made
things worse. Don’t think of his balls. Now I’m thinking of his balls. Balls.
Shit, why am I doing this? What’s wrong with me? Balls. I’m so messed up.
Deep breath. Balls. Now they’re closer? I’m such a sicko. Balls. I’m
disgusting. Balls. Why can’t I stop doing this? Balls. It’s because I’m a bad
person. Or, to put it more succinctly: Balls. Shame. Balls. Shame. Balls.
Tears of shame.
Up until this point, at ten years old, I had seen only one pair of testicles
other than my own: my father’s. It was never on purpose, yet they always
managed to peek out through his robe. To this day, three of my closest
childhood friends have accidentally seen my father’s testicles, and the
verdict has always been the same: Holy fuck, dude, those are like
grapefruits!
After more than a dozen sessions plagued by images of Mark’s massive
testicles and silver bush, I felt it was time to confess. Not only was the guilt
too much for my prepubescent, grape-size-testicled soul to bear, I also was
seeking absolution. That’s what people with OCD do. You’ve probably
heard that people with OCD repeatedly wash their hands, but some of us
approach cleansing in other ways. We attempt to clean our minds of guiltinducing thoughts, seeking out relief from guilt that’s eating us away.
Weneed to be told explicitly and frequently that what we’re thinking is okay,
and we’re not a bad person for having these thoughts.
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